


Laundry Day

by worstcommander



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstcommander/pseuds/worstcommander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mrsalenko requested: "Commander Shepard goes commando"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrsalenko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsalenko/gifts).



"Shepard," he says patiently, "You're going to have to let me look at it."

"It's fine, LT. Really. Just got the wind knocked out of me, see?" Shepard attempts to stand, the picture of health only somewhat marred by the pained hiss that slips past her teeth. She sits down just as quickly, twisting her weight to one side with a gasp.

"You took an incendiary round to the thigh, Skipper, that doesn't look fine to me." Ashley leans over his shoulder to get a closer look.

"It was a graze, Ash. Don't even think it got past my undersuit." Shepard is sweating now, thin lips pressed tight and brittle. Kaidan's known his CO long enough to recognize that her stubborn streak can outlast them both, and logic too. He rocks back on his heels and motions for Ashley to follow him a short distance away.

"Chief? How long to get those signal boosters online?"

"Twenty, maybe twenty-five? I'll have a better angle from that ridge to the south, but it'll take some time to get up there."

"Good, get started. Radio if you come across hostiles, don't engage. I doubt there's anyone left out there but I'd rather not be surprised." Ashley nods and turns on her heel, grabbing the pack of boosters as she steps back into daylight. Kaidan walks back to a sullen Shepard.

"So, are you going to tell me why you won't let your combat medic take a look at your leg?"

Shepard mumbles something that he doesn't quite catch.

"What?"

"I said, it's laundry day." She shifts uncomfortably, refusing to meet his eyes. Why would she care about the Normandy’s laundry rotation? As far as he knows, that's something Pressly- oh.

_Oh._

"Shepard, you're injured. I'm a trained medic and a professional, I won't be gawking at the... view." Shepard snorts.

"Yeah, because professional has been working well for us so far."

Last night she'd pressed him into a dark corner of the crew deck and pulled him fast to her lips until they'd both broken for air, chests heaving and faces flushed. He'd cupped a hand around one full breast and squeezed, just to hear her gasp and grind against him. He'd been working up the nerve to venture under her shirt when the noise of a passing crewmember had startled them apart and the moment was lost.

Yeah. Two professionals.

"Shepard."

"Fine," she sighs, "just get it over with."

"Ouch, my ego," he deadpans, which earns him a slip of tongue and a rude gesture, softened by her sharp fox grin.

It takes both of them to peel back her armor enough to expose the injury site. There's clasps at hip and thigh, enough to remove the melted outer layer, and he delicately lifts the weakened undersuit away from the back of her leg as they work together to slide the clinging fabric down to the top of her boots.

"Can you, uh," he sets a hand on her knee and pushes gently upwards and she takes the hint, pulling it back towards her chest with a grimace as he slides on a pair of disposable gloves. She was right, the round hadn't gotten through the undersuit, but the skin underneath was hot and angrily red, even from a graze. Nasty stuff.

"It's a burn, Shepard. Probably hurts like hell but you'll live."

"I could have told you that, LT." He doesn’t see her eyes roll but he hears it,  even as he bends to the field kit for burn ointment.

"Well, thanks for humoring us ordinary mortals. Now, this should neutralize the trace chemicals on your skin and stop the burn from getting any worse, but you'll want to see Chakwas after we..." he trails off, his hand still gently rubbing along the back of her thigh. Shepard is staring, eyes locked on him as a blush rises in her cheeks. There is a moment where neither of them breathes and he understands that this is the boundary between professionalism and that strange, curling thing that both of them have been trying to ignore.

He brushes his thumb lower, slowly, and she inhales on a shuddering breath, her thighs falling apart. Kaidan has been trying studiously to look anywhere that wasn't her, but now his eyes drag down one lithe leg to the join of her thighs, the dark shimmer of hair that frames her.

"Kaidan." Shepard's voice is husky, and he raises his head to meet her gaze.

She nods.

He strips off the gloves without looking away from her face, drinking in the way her teeth worry at her bottom lip, the darkening of her eyes.

The first touch of his bare hand on her thigh is perfect, smooth skin pebbling under his fingers as she shivers above him. He wants to live in this moment, spend hours tracing every inch of her.

"Commander, Williams reporting. I've planted the other signal boosters, heading up the ridge now. Should be another fifteen minutes or so." Startled by the burst of static over the comm, Kaidan pulls back his hand guiltily.

"Acknowledged, Chief. We'll keep your seat warm." Ashley's laugh is bright, even over the tinny hardsuit speakers.

"Tell the LT he better be glad he stayed behind to patch you up. Not sure he'd manage this climb at his age."

"Thanks, Ash. Really. You know I make the duty rosters, right?"

"Relax, LT, you'll have forgotten I said anything by the time I get back." Ashley's panting a bit but he can still hear the grin behind her words.

"Enough, you two," Shepard says. "Let us know when we can test the signal boosters, Ash."

"Aye, ma'am."

Shepard turns her attention back to him and he spares a moment to cringe at the picture they must make; Shepard propped up on a stack of crates with half her armor missing and her undersuit hanging off her knees, Kaidan crouched frozen beneath her. All of Council Space is in danger and they're risking their careers to go at it like horny teenagers.

Shepard props her uninjured leg up on the crate beside her and he suddenly can't recall why that's a bad thing.

"You heard heard her, Kaidan," Shepard says, parting her thighs as wide as the undersuit allows. "We've got fifteen minutes."

He doesn’t think he'll ever get tired of that grin, the crooked one that lights her face unselfconsciously before she catches herself and closes her mouth. It's infectious, adorable and as of late it makes his heart turn a funny way in his chest. He straightens up and leans in to press a soft kiss to the corner, grateful to have earned it today.

It's an awkward position they find themselves in, but hormones drive them through the navigation of legs and lips and hands tangling through hair. She always presses him so tight when they kiss, almost to the point of pain, like she can’t get close enough even with her tongue halfway inside his mouth. Her blunt fingernails rake down his neck when he cups his hand over her, hot and wet already.

Oh god she’s hot, and as he strokes his fingers teasingly around the edge of her they slide smooth and slick. Kaidan’s always preferred to take his time with this, a slow build, bringing his partners to the edge just to watch them break under him, but they have fifteen minutes. Fifteen uninterrupted minutes they’d never have, sneaking around the Normandy, and he wants to see Shepard come.

Just once. Just in case they don’t get this chance again, in case there’s always someone passing the dark corners of the mess, the last shower stall at the end. In case next week Shepard comes to her senses and realizes what a mistake this has been. In case something-

“Kaidan,” she moans. He draws his fingers in, sliding her clit between two fingers and rocking it, coaxing her hips to move in time with his strokes. Their lips meet again and he passes her the rhythm, stroking his tongue against hers. He takes a breath from her lungs and slips a finger inside her.

Shepard’s head falls back against the crate behind her, mouth falling open. It’s an opportunity to trace her jaw with his lips, nip at her ear until she thrusts back at the finger pumping inside her. He’s learned Shepard, little lessons in the minutes they steal, and he knows her weak spots.

“ _Kaidan_.” He pulls back, smiling down at the wreck he’s made of her. Her hair is stuck to her forehead above eyes glassy with pleasure, lips parted and wet. He doesn’t want this to end. He has to end it.

His second finger slides in beside the first. She’s tight around him and he can feel her squeeze at his fingers as he searches for the angle that will undo her. The first gasp leads him on and he’s merciless, pumping in and out, crooking his fingers to bring her over the edge. His thumb strokes her clit and his cock throbs in time with her whimpers.

When Shepard breaks she’s gorgeous, eyes fluttering shut and a whisper of something that might be his name. He throws his free arm around her shoulders and holds her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he slows, gentles, works her through the aftershocks. Her hair is soft against his cheek.

She redresses in silence as he cleans his hand with a sterile wipe, shrugging off his offer of help as she snaps her leg armor back into place.

“Honey, I’m home!” Ash calls from the warehouse entrance. She stomps the dust off her boots and walks over to join them. “Signal boosters are online, should be hearing from the Normandy any time now.”

“Good work, Chief.” Ashley cocks her head to the side.

“Why do you guys look so tired? I’m the one that’s been doing all the work around here.”


End file.
